Stupid Potter!
by malfoysminx
Summary: What happens when Harry comes across ferret!Draco late at night in a deserted Hogwarts corridor? dm/hp drarry SLASH.


Disclaimer: I own nothing! I'm just playing with JK Rowling's toys.

Author's note: Just a little one shot featuring ferret!Draco – cos he's so cute!

Please Note: Contains SLASH. Rated M for somewhat adult themes.

**Stupid Potter!**

Draco scurried hurriedly along the corridor, mentally congratulating himself on his narrow escape. It was well after midnight and even as a prefect he could not justify being out of bed this late. Snape, of course, would have let it go, but McGonagall was another matter. Draco had seen her mere seconds before it would have been impossible to escape and as luck would have it, there was not a single statue or alcove to hide him. Quick thinking, however, was enough to hide him sufficiently, and within half a second, Draco had transformed himself into his (unregistered, of course) animagus form.

Draco had taught himself the complex and highly advanced spellwork to become an animagus over the summer, intent on returning to school and lording it over Zabini who had been attempting the spell and failing through most of sixth year. When Draco discovered his animagus form, however, his plans to tell _anybody_ were quickly dashed. Clearly his experience in fourth year had scarred him deeper than he realised. Draco's animagus form was, humiliatingly, a snow-white ferret.

However, for the first time, Draco was glad. A great dragon would not have been very effectual in escaping from right under the nose of a teacher, now would it? So Draco happily continued on his way back to the Slytherin common room, his little ferret feet pattering silently along the stone floor. He was quite oblivious to everything around him believing (much in the same way as an ostritch with it's head stuck in the sand) that in his significantly miniaturised form, he was as unlikely to be seen now as he would have been full sized, yet hidden beneath an invisibility cloak.

Unfortunately for Draco, no matter how small he may be, his hair - well, fur - was just as obvious now as it always was. Added to that, the fact that he was surrounded by dark grey stone, he was rather more obvious than he thought. And suddenly, without any warning, Draco found himself caught by two rather large hands and being lifted up into the air by none other than... the invisible man.

A sudden pang of terror shot down Draco's little spine. He was just getting ready to panic when Potter's head suddenly appeared suspended in front of him. Of course, Draco growled to himself, Potter had an invisibility cloak. Stupid Potter.

"Well aren't you cute!"

Draco's mental Potter abuse was drawn to an abrupt halt at the Gryffindor's words. So Potter thought he, Draco Malfoy, was CUTE! Oh this was too good.

"Where are you from then?" Potter continued "You shouldn't be out here all by yourself. Mrs Norris might get you."

As if Draco could actually reply. And he was perfectly capable of avoiding a cat. Stupid Potter. Now if he'd just put Draco _down_ he would be on his way and... oh! Potter began stroking Draco's head with his index finger and it felt surprisingly good. But no. This was Potter! Stupid Potter! And Draco was going to bite his stupid finger. Just no until Potter scratched that spot just behind his ear... just there... ahhh. Yes, now he was definitely going to bite Potter. Except suddenly Draco was moving. At a much greater speed and _height_ than any self-respecting ferret would be comfortable with.

Deciding that he did _not _want to be dropped from this height, thank you very much, Draco decided to leave the biting of Potter until later. Only the next thing he knew, Potter was climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room and hurrying up the stairs to his dormitory.

With rising panic, Draco suddenly realised that he was well and truly trapped. He couldn't very well change back into his human form in the middle of Gryffindor territory. Yet his little ferret feet were rather too tiny to even consider trying to get out of this infernal tower by himself. Sulking, Draco hardly even noticed when Potter deposited him gently in the corner of the bed. He didn't notice as Potter also climbed on to the bed. Or as Potter drew the curtains casting locking and silencing spells on the hideously coloured drapes.

Still irritated by STUPID Potter's heavy handedness, Draco tried to come up with a plan to get out of this red hell. He had half formulated a plan involving waiting until Potter fell asleep and then turning back, when Potter lifted him up again.

Growling, Draco really did try to bite Potter's finger this time, but the Gryffindor held him tightly.

"Nu uh, little guy. No biting."

Draco disagreed rather strongly with that statement, but with Potter's grip on him there was very little he could do about it.

"So, what should I call you?" Potter mused, tilting his head to one side. "You remind me of Malfoy in fourth year."

Potter laughed derisively and Draco glared at him, wishing yet again, that Potter would be stupid enough to leave his fingers near Draco's teeth.

"Maybe I will call you Malfoy. Though that might be a bit obvious." Potter smiled sadly and Draco suddenly found himself curious about what Potter meant by that. "How about Dray."

Draco scrunched up his nose. He hated nicknames. But then, it was better than Potter calling him fluffy, or something equally degrading.

"Now, I know it's not much" Potter continued, "But this will have to be bed for tonight. I'll get you something better for tomorrow, I promise."

The next minute, Draco found himself deposited in an old chocolate box by the side of Potter's pillow, filled with a crumpled up old t-shirt. With a slight jolt, Draco realised he recognised the shirt as one Potter had been wearing several weeks before. It was too big and had holes in the sleeve, yet Draco had thought it rather fetching. He had put that particular (somewhat disturbing) thought down to his desire to disagree with the mudblood on everything. And having interrupted her scolding Potter for wearing a t-shirt that in her opinion was nothing more than a rag, Draco had stepped in. In one fell swoop, he had annoyed Granger and disconcerted Potter with a well-timed comment regarding Potter's sex appeal in his current state of dress.

Draco was pulled from his musings by a muffled noise that sounded oddly like his name. Twisting around, Draco looked over at where Potter now lay, sprawled on top of the covers wearing nothing but pyjama bottoms and... (Draco was convinced his eyeballs were about to melt)… his hand stuffed down the front of his trousers. Potter was wanking! While Draco was right _there_! How horrible, how vile, how...

"Malfoy..."

Suddenly Draco realised where his name had come from. Potter was doing _that_ and thinking about _him_! That was disgusting, and wrong and... and just a little bit hot.

Taking advantage of Potter's distraction, Draco crept out of his box, trying to get a better look. Climbing up onto the pillow, Draco realised he had a perfect view straight down Potter's body. His eyes locked on the erratic movement of Potter's hand and he could tell Potter was on the edge. And then Potter was coming, crying out Draco's name.

Quickly, Draco scurried back to his box, curling up into a tight ball. He heard Potter muttering a cleaning spell and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. The last thing he was expecting was to suddenly feel Potter's hand stroking his fur.

"Merlin, Dray, I'm so stupid."

Draco's eyes opened again at Potter's words, eerily echoing his own sentiments from earlier. He tried to ignore Potter's fingers stroking his fur, but it felt too good. Unconsciously, Draco arched into Potter's touch, wondering suddenly if it would feel this good if Potter stroked Draco's hair normally. He was, thankfully, distracted from these musings as Potter continued talking.

"Malfoy hates me. He hates everything about me."

Not everything, Draco found himself thinking. Not when you stroke me like that.

"And I want nothing more than to rip off his clothes and devour every inch of him."

Draco squeaked in surprise. This was definitely a side of Potter he hadn't seen before. And he had to admit; it was a side he rather liked.

Potter smiled at him sadly as he gave Draco's head one final stroke.

"G'night Dray. Sweet dreams."

And with that, Potter turned over and closed his eyes.

Draco waited as long as he could bear. Finally, when he was certain Potter was asleep, Draco crept out of his box and transformed back into his human self. Unfortunately, the sudden extra weight on the bed alerted Potter to his presence. Still half asleep, Potter turned over to face Draco, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

"Malfoy...?" Potter's voice, still think with sleep, cracked as he spoke.

Thinking fast, Draco pressed his finger to Potter's lips.

"Shhh," He smiled, "It' just me; Dray. Go back to sleep."

Removing his finger, from Potter's mouth he pressed a light kiss to the Gryffindor's lips before slipping out of the bed and away.

Breakfast:

Harry absently pushed the food around his plate. Ron and Hermione were bickering across the table beside him, but he was completely oblivious. All Harry could think about was the dream he'd had the previous night. At least, he _thought _it was a dream.

It was hardly a rare occurrence for Malfoy to feature in his dreams, but last night had been different. There was also the added fact of the t-shirt filled chocolate box by the side of Harry's pillow. And unless he had suddenly developed a sleepwalking tendency, something extremely odd had happened last night.

His thoughts drifted back to the hazy memory of Malfoy's kiss. Surely it couldn't have been real. But Dray… Harry felt sure that the fluffy white ferret had not been a mere figment of his imagination. He supposed it was hardly unexpected that the creature had escaped, but stupidly enough, Harry had actually missed him this morning when he woke to find the ferret gone.

Harry's gaze drifted towards the Slytherin table, of their own accord. His eyes easily sought out the recognisable blond head over the multitude of people already gathered in the hall. Malfoy was, as usual, surrounded by his fellow classmates, but his attention seemed to be elsewhere. He was gazing absently at the ceiling (today a depressing shade of grey), his face twisted in a thoughtful expression. Suddenly, he looked down, straight at Harry.

Knowing he was caught, Harry now refused to look away, catching the ever-present glimmer of challenge in Malfoy's eye. Suddenly, Malfoy winked at him, before turning away to speak to Pansy. Harry could feel his face heating up and, thankful that his friends were too busy arguing to notice his discomfort, he hastily swallowed his glass of pumpkin juice. When he worked up the courage to glance surreptitiously back at the Slytherin table, Malfoy was gone.

His almost non-existent appetite was now well and truly gone. And with a muttered excuse to the now quietly fuming Hermione, Harry grabbed his bag and hurried from the hall. He had gone less than 20 feet when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"What's the hurry, Potter?"

With a sigh of resignation, Harry turned to face the Slytherin who was leaning against the wall in the alcove Harry had just passed.

"What do you want Malfoy?"

Harry longed to just turn and walk away. He couldn't face Malfoy's taunts today. Malfoy took a step forward and Harry reached warily for his wand.

"You won't need that."

Malfoy took another step forward, stopping just in front of Harry, close enough that Harry could feel the soft puff of air as the other boy exhaled. Malfoy lowered his voice, leaning closer to whisper in Harry's ear.

"And I thought I told you to call me Dray."

Harry's head snapped back in shock. For a moment he could do nothing but stare at Malfoy open mouthed. So last night _had_ been real. Malfoy was a ferret animagus and… Harry caught his breath. Malfoy really had kissed him.

"D-Dray…" Harry stammered, still not entirely convinced that this wasn't all just a very elaborate practical joke.

"Harry." Malfoy, no, Draco, purred into Harry's ear.

"You really want…?" Harry trailed off, not daring to believe.

"I want you to rip off my clothes and devour me." Harry's eyes glazed over as Draco pondered what he had just said. "Well maybe not _rip_. This shirt is very expensive. Perhaps you could just _carefully remove_ my clothes."

Harry hardly heard what Draco was saying. Other images of last night suddenly returned. How he had spotted Draco flying, doused in moonlight, from the common room window. How, unable to sleep, he had been wandering the castle aimlessly until he'd found Dray. And what he had done after he returned to his dorm, his thoughts filled with memories of the way Draco looked astride a broom, head thrown back, hair flying…

And Draco had been _there_. Draco had _seen_. He knew. And he… had just said something about removing his clothes.

Harry's attention snapped back to the present.

"So, R of R at 8?" Draco finished.

Harry nodded dumbly.

"Excellent. See you later, Potter."

Again Harry nodded, before turning to walk away.

"Oh, and Potter…"

Harry turned back, his heart thumping in his chest as he realised quite how close Draco was.

"Don't be late."

With that, Draco caught Harry's lips in a brief but bruising kiss. And then Draco was gone, strolling away towards the Charms corridor. Leaving Harry staring after him, his fingers pressed to his tingling mouth, counting the hours until eight o'clock.


End file.
